While waiting for a ferry, I watched the people getting off. There were the usual mix of humanity until the very end. A young woman in a red tweed skirt, orange vintage blouse and a jauntily perched plaid cap walked off. She had an English Sheep Dog and a vacuum. It was an old Hoover and she was pulling it along. The dog was leading the way. The hand holding the leash was also holding a small leather bound book that she actually appeared to be reading.
I was so engrossed watching them depart that I nearly missed getting on the ferry.
What was her story? Where had she come from? Where was she going?
I admit I've created a dozen different stories for her. But I am certain none would be as interesting as the truth.